Reckoning
by A Bittersweet Liar
Summary: "Name?" "Clark Kent, a.k.a. Superman." "Race?" "Last Kyrptonian." "Height?" "6,4 ft." "Status?" "Missing." It starts with one mistake, and by the next second, most of the founders are dead, and aliens are conquering the Earth. The rest of the League is left in hiding, while the civilians, are terrified.
1. Prologue: Case Study

**Reckoning**

**Genre:** Thriller/Suspense, Mystery, Drama, Angst. Dystopian World. Alternate Reality.

**Idea/Prompt:** "Name:_ Race:_ Height_ Status: _dead_."

**Length:** 147 words.

**Pairing:** None for now.

**Summary:** One incident goes wrong. The Justice League is destroyed. And the rest of the heroes are wondering, while the world is terrified. Their enemy is merciless.

**Rating:** Teen/PG-13.

**Author's Note:** I was inspired while reading the Epic of Gilgamesh, or at least_ trying_ to read it. This is a prologue, which is why its short. And most of it isn't going to make sense until later on.

* * *

**Prologue 'Case Study'**

"Name?"

"Wonder Woman, a.k.a. Princess Dianna."

"Race?"

"Immortal Amazonian."

"Height?"

"5,9 ft."

"Status?"

"_Dead."_

* * *

"Name?"

"Clark Kent, a.k.a. Superman."

"Race?"

"Last Kyrptonian."

"Height?"

"6,4 ft."

"Status?"

"_Missing."_

* * *

"Name?"

"Bruce Wayne a.k.a. Batman

"Race?"

"Human."

"Height?"

"6,0 ft."

"Status?"

"_Dead._

* * *

"Name?"

"Flash, a.k.a. Wally West."

"Race?"

"Metahuman."

"Height?"

"5,10 ft."

"Status?"

"_Murdered."_

* * *

"Name?"

"J'onn J'onzz"

"Race?"

"Green Martian. Last of his kind."

"Height?"

"6,2 ft."

"Status?"

"_Dead."_

* * *

"Name?"

"Shayera Hol. Used to be known as Hawkgirl."

"Race?"

"Exiled Thanagarian."

"Height?"

"5,9 ft."

"Status?"

"_Unknown."_

An eyebrow is raised, but the words don't stop.

* * *

"Name?"

"John Stewart, a.k.a. the 2nd Green Lantern."

"Race?"

"Human."

"Height?"

"5,11 ft."

"Status?"

"_Wasting in the Abyss."_

* * *

"So they're all dead or missing?"

"Yes sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Perfect."

A wicked smile gleams against the shadows, revealing a set of very sharp teeth. The silence echoes after that.

* * *

**End Study.**

**Case is Closed**.


	2. Chapter 1: It is just a lie

Reckoning

**Genre:** Thriller/Suspense, Mystery, Drama, Angst, & Hurt. Dystopian World. Alternate Reality.

**Idea/Prompt:** "Name:_ Race:_ Height_ Status: _dead or missing_."

**Length:** 2,605 words.

**Pairing:** _This chapter:_ Helena/Vic = Huntress/Question.

**Summary:** One incident goes wrong. The Justice League is destroyed. And the rest of the heroes are wondering, while the world is terrified. Their enemy is merciless.

**Rating:** Teen/PG-13.

**Author's Note:** I decided to write this chapter before I forget _how_ I actually had wanted to write this chapter. I hope this wasn't too bad of a 1st chapter. This is also a different writing style to my usual. Sorry for the long wait. Enjoy, read, & review!

* * *

**Chapter 1 'Lustum est Mendacium'**

* * *

Clark Kent is a farm boy with a strong love for Journalism, and Superman is a hero with a strong sense of justice. He hates failing people. He hates watching the ones he most cares about get hurt even more.

There had been a battle of some sort. Clark remembers noise, a lot of noise, and blood. Blood was everywhere. His heart stings in pain. He remembers Flash bleeding. Wally had been hurt. But Wally was still smiling, even with the knife piercing his gut. Even when the blood ran down his red suit. Wally had been smiling, uttering to Clark _"It's okay Supes. I'm okay. Don't lose it. Don't lose your sense of Justice. Not for me Clark. Don't make _me_ be the reason you all turn bad. After all, you guys are __**my**__ heroes~"_

Clark's eyes open. His arm was reaching out for something. _'Wally'_ a voice whispers inside his head. He drops his arm. His head hurts. His eyes more, when he tries to open them. The light is bright. He tastes sand on his lips, and he shakes his head, trying to clear his vision.

He's in a wasteland. There's nothing there but sand. There's **no one** here but Clark. And to make sure, he uses his X-Ray vision to scan the area. There's no one anywhere. Clark frowns.

His head is throbbing more painfully. He blinks again. The ground is cracked, dry, and sandy. He doesn't know where he is.

But he doesn't really care. Wally's dead. Wally was hurt, while they all stood watch. Wally was dying, and Clark _couldn't_ even say goodbye.

His throat is dry, and he feels emptiness swirl with the rage growing inside of him. He was angry. They were taken for fools, they let the invaders attack them. They let the invaders win, when they were _**supposed**_ to have died fighting. And now, the silence bothered him immensely.

He was still alone, when he dared to open his eyes again. And this time, a stray tear escapes his eye. He doesn't try to brush it away –ignores the part that thinks he wouldn't even if he could. He breathes.

He walks forward, ignoring the thought that coursed through his mind, 'Wally's _dying_, and I'm **here**'.

He ignores the surge of emotions that pile up from within him, as he forces his legs forward.

'Wally's _dying_, and I'm **here**' echoes in the silence of the wastelands.

'Wally's _dying_, and I'm **here**'.

(_But where was here?_)

* * *

Shayera wakes up. It's dark. She blinks again. It's still dark. She's angry. She's furious. The rage is boiling from within her, as she _tries_ to find out where she is. 'WHERE AM I?!' she thinks angrily. And sadly '_Where was Wally?_'

The silence here was almost calming, but this time, it helps Shayera realize that she's alone, and the only noise she can hear is the fluttering of her wings. It's still dark when she blinks again; she tries to move her fingers. She can't. Her hands are bound together.

She grits her teeth, ignores the pain, and tugs hard against her bounds. The friction hurts her hands. She feels something cold against her fingers, and she wishes she had her mace to smash someone **really** hard right now.

Her heart began to race, she hated the darkness, and yet she still stilled when she realized she was floating. 'How am I floating?' she wondered, hating the fact that she still _couldn't_ see.

She hears nothing, not even the flutter of the wind, or the chirping of birds. She wonders if this is actually a place on Earth...

She breathes in. there's enough oxygen around for her to consume. 'So that rules out space then' she thinks annoyed. But the silence was rather unnerving, since she's been to a lot of places on Earth; she's _never _heard of a place where it was so silent, that nothing could be heard. She misses noise.

_Thump. _

_Thump. _

_Thump. Thump._

_Thump._

Only her heartbeats echoed. The silence was vast, large, and ever-so consuming. The silence was loud. 'But how?' the question flittered through Shayera's mind.

Once again, she tries to move her hands. The metal pushes deep into her skin.

She stops trying.

Tears sting her eyes from behind the blindfold on her eyes. And the move across her cheeks, cool as ice. '_Wally_' she thinks sadly.

"Where are _you_ Wally?" is the question she wants to ask. But the silence keeps her from asking.

She stays quiet then.

She closes her eyes, and tries to dream of Flash's every-day grin. She tries to remember his voice. The silence makes it hard to remember. She does so anyway.

And she hates how her hurt hearts as she wonders about John. Batman would save her, wouldn't he? But what if something happened to Batman? Shayera ignores how her heart clenches in pain, making it hard for her to breathe slowly. Making it hard for her to remain calm.

She hopes Superman can save her. She wishes she was invulnerable sometimes. Maybe then, she could've broken out of the metal that bound her hands together.

If she was Diana she would've _never_ been able to be bound anyway.

She doesn't think about John. Nor Wally. Her head, starts throbbing in pain.

She wants to be like J'onn. Because if she was, she could've shape-shifted out of her binds, and found her mace already, and left the cold silence behind her. Or she could've made herself phase through the bounds. But she can't. She's Shayera Hol, an exiled Thanagarian. She can only fly, and smash things with her mace. She's **not** unbreakable. But as her stomach lurches, she _wishes_ she was.

Maybe then, she could've broken out of her bounds, and found Wally. Her heart hurts again. She hates emotions sometimes.

They're what made her this weak in the first place.

She breathes, and hears her heartbeats **echo**.

_Thump._

_Thump. _

_Thump. Thump._

_Thump._

She hates the silence even _**more**_...

* * *

"What do we have?" he asks himself, tone neutral, but he's trying hard not to be angry. But he can't help it. He _**is**_. Flash; dead. Batman was dead. Wonder Woman, dead. John was taken. Shayera was missing. Superman was missing. And the world. The world was _scared_. But he can't stop thinking about Flash. Flash who had been stabbed with a sword. Who'd been bleeding on the city streets. **Alone**. _Why?_ For what purpose? Why murder Flash when you're an alien species that just wants to conquer the Earth?

But he knows the susceptible answer. Because _he_ was the youngest. In any type of bond, killing the youngest, always affects the eldest ones somehow. It makes_ them_ angry, makes them reckless. Makes them easier to kill or capture. Makes them easier targets to get rid of.

He's not angry. He's furious beyond words. He remembers what Flash told him, two weeks after the Cadmus incident, on a Sunday afternoon.

"_Hey Question?"_

_He remembers turning to face Flash. "Yes Flash."_

"_You're an alright guy. Even if John thinks you're weird, and well-I used to."_

_He stays silent._

"_But you tried to save me. To be the bad guy, just to make sure, the founders don't. It might've been the wrong choice, but the fact that you'd do it for me, to keep __**them**__ from turning rogue. It makes me glad that you care so much. In my eyes, you're the same as everyone else. You're a friend, and a great hero. Even if you have quirky habits or not, and whether I disagree with most of your choices; I like that you're always questioning everything, and everyone. You keep everyone safe-" Flash pauses to rub his head, a nervous and shy smile on his lips. _

_Flash continued on softly, smile more genuine and sincere, the smile he'd give Batman when Batman wasn't brushing Flash off. "-and for that. Thank you."_

"_Hmm. Your welcome". He had uttered then, and turned away._

_But before the Flash left, he told him "Don't ever change Flash." Not needing to see the bright grin that appeared on the younger hero's face._

_He also ignored the fact that a small smile had graced his lips, behind his mask._

He shook his head. Now, was **not** the time to remember memories. He also ignores how he isn't sure that there'd _ever_ be a time for that.

The founders were dead, missing, or captured like John had been. Something _had_ to be done. He placed his hands on the desk, before sliding his elbow on the table, and reviewing the information that he had collected.

The aliens spoke English, -when they'd been making their statement about conquering the Earth and destroying _**their**_ precious justice league-, but they had their own language –he'd heard it before he went into hiding. One that was far **too **complicated to be understood in a few weeks. He wishes J'onn hadn't been killed.

He glared, as he heard familiar footsteps near the desk he was at. He didn't want to deal with is. Vic isn't sure he **ever** wants to deal with the aftermath of losing the league. He asked rudely "What do _you_ want Huntress?" he was in mood to deal with her questions; he knew she wanted one thing, and he knew he could not deny her that one thing. _Revenge_. He ignored how the word echoed in his mind.

She snorted, before asking "What do _I_ want? You _know_ what I want Vic! I _want_those Alien bastards **dead**. They _killed _the Founding members of the League! They murdered _Flash"_ he ignored how her voice cracks when she utters Flash, avoids her face, because he knows they're glassy. He also pretends he didn't flinch at all, when she uttered her last sentence. Uttering Flash in front of the surviving League members, made most of them flinch, the females cry, and the rest of them turn cold & dark altogether. It was a dark world now. Everything he had predicted. It had come _true_. Flash was the catalyst. He wonders if Flash would always be the catalyst in other dimensions as well...he decides he doesn't **really** want to know.

He stays silent. He feels her glare increase in intensity. He doesn't bother to look up. Just moves his hands through the papers, trying to read more information about the invaders. Trying to find out what they wanted. What would they get, by invading Earth? He doesn't know. His questions are never-ending. He finds that ironic. He pursues his lips, and waits for Helena to yell at him.

"That's what you're going to do?! You're gonna try to find out _more _information? While Flash is fucking bleeding dead Vic!? Are you just gonna keep asking questions that we have **no** answers for..." she pauses. He prepares himself for what's next. "...are you _just_ gonna give in? And _let them_toy around with his body. Can't we even _**bury**_ him, at least?" and her tone sounds _so _hopeful, so broken, and full of desperate anger. He wishes he was deaf, because he can already feel himself relenting to her.

He starts softly, "Huntress" hands letting go of the papers, and faced his girlfriend. "You know that if we take one step. We're endangering the rest of the League. That if we were to search for Flash's body, we would need to understand what we're up against. We can't fight them. The League _couldn't_ fight them. What makes you sure we can? What if we do go out there? What if we do find Flash's body? We could get killed, and Flash would still be taken as a test subject."

He sees her hands clench, and unclench in frustration, and sighs inwardly. "Helena" he cuts her off, before she can even try and retort. "You know the answer. We need to find the rest of the League who survived, and try to form a plan. We also need to rescue John, I'm not sure that whatever they've kept him locked up, has food, or even a bathroom. We **will **bury the Flash. But not _now_. Because we know **nothing** about the enemy, while the enemy knows _everything_ about us. It's a dangerous situation. We have a very low chance of succeeding. But for now, we have to lay low, and wait". He stood up from his chair, slowly watching her.

She moved towards him, tears falling, his arms were already wide open to embrace her. He bit his lips, and held her _close_. Ignoring the pain he felt. Ignored how his eyes blurred with warm tears. He ignored the tears that escaped, and held Helena until her sobs stopped. Until she could face him, as Huntress, he would hold her until then.

Because he **knew**. Nothing was over. With the founding members dead –except for John– he also couldn't rule out the fact that both Superman and Hawkgirl could be dead; revenge was the only thing that coursed through most of their minds right now. He knows that because it's the only thing he really wants to do right now. Kill the aliens mercilessly. Kill them like they killed Flash. Until they'd be begging for death. Until they choked. He grits his teeth. Trying to keep the anger at bay. Anger wouldn't solve anything right now. But he _wishes_ it would.

He looked at the clock. **21:00**. He tries to forget the fact that 29 hours ago, Flash would've been smiling brightly at him, asking him _"Hey Question. Why so serious today?"_ He lets out a deep breath. And listens to Helena's murmurs of "Why him?" "Why couldn't we-" "...it had to be _him_?" "I feel useless" "I hope John's alright" "I wonder if they've _already_ know where Hawkgirl is...and are just waiting for the right moment to kill her" the silent _"like flash was killed"_ remained unsaid, "I want to _kill _them" "even superman couldn't win..." "rip them part by part, until **nothing** is left". He doesn't mind her sharp nails pressing into his coat, and almost scarring his skin. He wants this pain. As a reminder of _**their **_failure...

He just hopes that there _are_ surviving members.

The clock's light flashes, and he closes his eyes. He _tries_ to forget the image of a bleeding Wally.

The silence that's _supposed_ to echo is disrupted by Helena's sobs, and shaky breaths. And for once, he's glad he's **not** alone. His mind would have been in a much darker place, if it weren't for the blue-eyed beauty holding on to him, one hand around his chest, while the other clutched a silver cross around her neck.

He strokes her back, trying to ignore the image of blood, _so much blood_, flowing.

"_Hey Vic-I can call you Vic, right?" _

_"Anyways, have a great day!"_

'I'm sorry' is the only thought he has left.

* * *

Light. There is so much light. '_Am I dead?' _

If so. Then the afterlife is much **too** bright. I wonder why.

Hmm. If Batman were here, he'd tell me to stop daydreaming. But I wonder. Why is the light _so bright?_

It doesn't hurt much. But I find it very hard to see.

But this question bothers me "Do I need to see to know where I am?"

Nothing. This is very unusual.

I wonder why.

I feel thirsty. Odd. I am **not **in pain.

But all I can remember is pain.

And maybe blood. Or was it red? I am not quite sure. My memory seems to be barely there.

If I am dead, then am I gone? Or am I **still** alive, and this is all a hallucination?

I wonder.

Why can I _only _remember red?

* * *

**End Chapter 1.**


End file.
